Shut Up And Dance With Me
by Just-Another-Mindless-Writer
Summary: Modern AU: Emma spots her ex during a night out for her best-friends bachelorette party, and what's her first instinct? To make him jealous. If only life were that simple and fate didn't have an annoying habit of pushing her and this mystery man together. Pretty much just CS fluff to help us deal with the hiatus before us.


**So, here is just a cute, fluffy one-shot I wrote to help myself deal with the hiatus.**

 **Enjoy, let me know what you think and as a disclaimer, I own none of the songs used in this story, but u recommend you listen to them if you haven't already.**

* * *

Victims of the night, that's what Liam had called them, his smile bright beneath the pulsing lights, the bass pounding through their feet in the night club. It had started out as a gig, and an impressive one at that. Gold's Nightclub was not a venue to be sniffed at, as both Killian's brother, Liam, and his band's manager, Regina Mills, had repeatedly told him. Killian hadn't argued, he'd not seen the point. Will was willing to play bass anywhere that sold whisky, Robin would happily follow Regina to the end of the world with his guitar and Jefferson, well, Killian wasn't sure their drummer was in his right frame of mind to even realise where they were playing half the time anyway.

As band mates went, Killian was pretty grateful for the ones he had.

It had started in college, Killian, Robin and Liam all having moved to the states together, Robin and Killian to study and Liam, well, Liam just didn't like the idea of his little brother being on the other side of the ocean having adventures without him. Killian couldn't begrudge him for that. Jefferson had worked at the same bar as Liam, hence bringing him into their small group, along with his wonderful daughter, Grace. As for Will Scarlet, no one knew where he came from, and they never really questioned it either. He was their bassist and their comic relief, but most importantly, he was their friend, no matter how plastered he got or how hard his accent was to comprehend. Even if said friend was currently standing on a table and 'dancing', beer bottle in hand as he tried to impress a pretty blonde girl in a red dress. Killian would have intervened had the bullshit tactic not been working, the blonde reaching up her hand for Will's and pulling him down with her towards the dance floor.

Their gig had gone well, Killian thought. He'd not forgotten his lyrics, everyone had been in sync, and Will had survived their entire set list before falling off of the small stage. That had been an hour ago, and had Regina not been the groups designated driver – who was currently nowhere to be found – Killian would have left before the applause had ended. Nightclubs weren't his scene and never had been. He was more of a pub person, preferring the calm and intimate ambiance and playing darts to the crude bump and grind atmosphere that befell nightclubs, with their pounding music and raunchy patrons. Not that Killian was opposed to the women loitering around him with their thick lashes and painted lips, he just preferred the gentlemanly approach, something that became quite challenging when you couldn't even hear what the other was saying.

"Liam, where's Regina?" Killian asked, elbowing his brother none-too-gently in the side. Despite the music not being quite so loud by the bar, Killian still found himself shouting to be heard.

"Robin." Was all he heard from his brother, who proceeded to point towards the back room of the club, where the band had left their instruments before turning back to the barmaid he'd previously been talking to. A pretty woman, with thick brown hair curled and pinned so it fell slightly wildly over one shoulder, her blue vest hanging incredibly low, the back cut out with black lace. That answered one of Killian's questions at least. This was why Liam was so hesitant to leave.

"Can I get you another?" The woman asked, shouting to be heard as she gestured to Killian's beer, nothing but dregs in the bottom of the bottle. Assuming he was here for a while, he nodded, passing the barmaid – Lacey, he remembered Liam mentioning her name once, assuming this was the same barmaid who'd hustled him at pool a few nights ago – his empty bottle and accepting the new one.

If he had anything to thank Robert Gold about this gig for, it was the free drinks for the band.

* * *

Emma was late. Actually, she was really late. As in over an hour late. Had this just been a regular night out she probably could have blagged her way around it, explained how her skip hadn't come easy (Hence her scuffed knees and broken heels) and that she's done her best. She probably could have talked her way out of coming out at all. That would have worked on an ordinary night.

But this wasn't an ordinary night out. This was Mary-Margret's bachelorette party, and all she's asked for was a girl's night out with all of her closest friends. Even Ashely, the new mother, had made it out on time, something that the woman was seriously struggling with after the birth of her daughter. Emma never minded, having a child of her own, Emma was nothing but sympathetic to Ashley's sleepless nights and stress filled days.

After finally making her way to the club – Gold's club, somewhere that was _way_ out of Emma's price range – Emma found her friends already inside and already drunk. Mary-Margret stood with her arm around both Ashley and Aurora, both of whom had left their children in the capable hands of their husbands for the night. She beamed when she saw Emma, stumbling slightly as she grabbed her arm and pulled her over to their group. The greetings were a mess, sloppy hugs from everyone and nearly drowning in the mane of red hair that could only be Merida. Ruby, who was likely already plastered, was too busy seemingly devouring Mulan's mouth, pressing her girlfriend against one of the railings to even notice Emma's arrival. She could forgive it, Mulan had been away for a while visiting her family, Ruby was probably quenching her withdrawal the best way she knew how.

Emma could feel herself being dragged by Mary-Margret and groaned aloud as the sight of the flashing coloured floor before her. Mary-Margret wanted to dance, of course she did. Digging in her heels and feeling for the first time that night grateful that her heels had broken, the only shoes within range being a pair of beaten up red converse in the back of her bug, Emma managed to wriggle from Mary-Margret's grip.

The other woman pouted, a clear sign she was wasted, and tried to drag Emma after her and the others one more. After a series of exaggerated hand gestures and pointing towards the bar, Mary-Margret smiled, giving Emma a thumbs up before spinning and following the other drunk women who were already dancing, in Emma's opinion, like toddlers trying to stay upright. God, she loved her friends.

Manoeuvring her way towards the bar, slipping through the gaps in bodies and trying not to cringe at the sticky floor, Emma crashed rather unceremoniously into the surface beside a bulky man who was talking to the barmaid. He gave Emma a small smile before gesturing she order. She needed to play catch-up, she knew by the excited squeals that heard even over the heavy music that her friends were far drunker than herself.

Emma was a smart woman, she knew she didn't need alcohol to have a good time with her friends, however, she also knew that managing said friends without the numbing sense of alcohol was a challenge, even for her strong will, and so after three clear shots she was beginning to feel herself sigh in relief. They'd take their time to kick in, she knew, but having them in her system was enough to calm her after the eventful evening of chasing some prick called Ryan through the streets of Boston.

Ordering herself a beer to be going on with, Emma leant with her back against the bar, something she immediately regretted after she felt the stickiness of the surface against her bare back. Perhaps a backless dress had not been her best choice for Robert Gold's nightclub, known for its questionable patrons and even more questionable owner.

Emma had her own reasons for disliking the man, very good reasons in fact that didn't involve his shifty deals or dodgy intentions. In fact, her reasons ran far deeper, and as if her night wasn't bad enough, her reason was currently making its way through the crowd.

 _Neal._ Emma's first boyfriend and her first (and last) heartbreak. The same man who'd let her take the fall for one of _his_ and _his father's_ crimes, the same one who had left her pregnant and alone of prison for eleven months, and even that had only been after the help of Robert Gold's lawyer, the help she didn't even ask was plenty of bad blood between Emma and the Gold's, bad blood that she couldn't see herself getting over in a hurry.

She could have turned away, just faced the bar and acted like another patron just here for a good time, but she could see the woman hanging off of Neal's arm, with her dark skin shimmering beneath the bright lights, her hair straight and swishing around her bare shoulders, her orange dress no doubt bought for her by her loving fiancé. _Fiancé._ The word still made Emma feel bitter. Even after Emma had been released from prison, baby and all, she'd had hope for her and Neal, hope that they could lay all their past to rest and be together and find Tallahassee, if not for love then for their son. But alas, Neal had moved on.

His engagement had been a massively blown out of proportion affair, him and Tamara having been engaged for the past three years. Emma knew it was for publicity, the Gold's being very 'respected' business men, meaning they had their fingers in all the right pies, including the media's. There was business magazine lining shelves in newsagents plastered with Robert Gold and his entrepreneur son's faces. It also meant this wedding was building up to be the one of the century – something Mary-Margret had scoffed about.

Running into Neal was bad enough as it was, their brief and awkward meetings regarding his visits to Henry, their four-year-old son, were awkward enough as it was, but knowing he was living the high life with his father's money and his supermodel looking fiancé was enough to make Emma feel empty inside. It made her feel lesser, something she'd promised never to feel again.

But the shots were kicking in and with that, her inhibitions were falling fast. It took seconds for her plan to form in her mind, her idea to show Neal that no, she didn't need him, and never would again, before she scouring the closest vicinity for the most attractive man she could spot. If Neal was going to show off his fiancé, Emma was going to have to fight back with some arm candy of her own. She knew the idea was dumb, even with the alcohol beginning to fuzz her mind, but perhaps petty was just the way forward. Besides, Emma already had a man in her sight to enact her plan.

* * *

Killian had no idea how it had happened, and he'd not even had time to question it either. One moment he was nursing his beer, debating whether or not to crash Robin and Regina's soiree in the back room before he felt his bottle taken from his hand and placed on the bar. That should have been enough to baffle him, but what left her really speechless was how the blonde took his arm, dragging him away from the bar and onto the dance floor.

He was only released from her grip when she turned around, her eyes seeking his beneath the flashing lights. She was beautiful, that was a plus he supposed. If his night was going to be hijacked by any woman, he was glad it was a beautiful one. It did, however, raise his suspicions of what the hell was going on. By the set of her jaw and the way she kept looking over his shoulder, she wasn't looking for a pick-up, but just what she was after was a mystery.

"Fancy explaining, Love?" Killian shouted over the noise, his mouth close to her ear so she could hear him. She smelt of vanilla and cinnamon, and interesting mix he doubted he'd forget in a rush, clearly not having been in the club long enough to smell of sweat from the press of bodies.

She bit her lip for a moment, her eyes darting to the side before she too, leant up towards him, her hand on his shoulder to pull him down, her lips bushing his lobe as she spoke back.

"My ex – fiancé – bad time – prove him wrong!" Killian managed to grasp through the pounding of the music in his ear. Curious as he was, he began to turn around, to see this 'ex' and just what it was this woman had to prove. He barely got to looking over his shoulder before he felt the woman's hands on each of his cheeks, turning him back to look at her. Whoever she was, she was making one hell of a first impression. "Don't you dare look back." She shouted and Killian heard every word, watching how her green eyes - at least he thought they were green, or maybe it was just the lights - bore into his. "Just – just keep your eyes on me." She said, nodding her head to ask if he understood. He nodded warily in response and she released him, choosing instead to begin dancing.

She wasn't awful at it, Killian realised, her feet tapping along with the beat, her shoulders swaying along with her hips, her arms running through her long, blonde curls. But Killian could see, even as he slowly began to join in, that her attention was still elsewhere. If she was trying to prove something to this ex, focusing on him this much probably wasn't doing her any favours.

"You're holding back." Killian shouted once more and the smile that graced her face was blinding as she gently punched his arm. She knew this situation was ridiculous, and he was grateful for that, since he didn't have the heart to tell her how this plan was probably not even going to work. But the night was still young – _ish_ – he'd played a great gig and the alcohol in his system was telling him to go along with whatever the beautiful girl asked.

"Shut up and dance with me!" She shouted back and Killian felt himself smiling back. Yes, he'd do whatever she asked if he could see that smile again. He took her hand and spun her around, and even if he couldn't hear her laugh over the music, he knew just by the way her face lit up under the coloured lights that the sound would be more musical than any sound he'd heard before. She was like a fantasy, her hair fanning around her as she spun around, revealing the bare expanse of her back and shoulder blades that weren't covered by her black dress. Killian was impressed by how well she danced in this club with the alcohol in her system and the fact that not many of the people on the floor could even dance, they looked more like they were trying to walk across cobblestones in heels, but one glance at her feet and her secret was revealed. She wasn't wearing heels like every other girl in the club, instead she wore a pair of red converse that seemed as though they'd see better days.

He was transfixed, she was everything he's ever dreamed of as a teenager, his ideal woman. Slim, beautiful, thick curling hair, full lips and a wild sense of freedom he'd not felt for a long time, not with Regina running the band and The others all agreeing with her.

Songs passed and the dances changed, but Killian's eyes never left her, he'd forgotten all about the ex they were supposed to be proving wrong, too caught up in watching her beneath the pulsing lights. He was lost in it all, helpless to the bass and the way she grabbed his hand and spun around. It could have been minutes that passed, it could have been hours, but Killian knew that this woman was exactly what he'd been looking for and still, he didn't know her name.

Another woman appeared at some point, her pale skin illuminated by the flashing lights, her short hair flicking out at strange angles from where she had been dancing as well. She was talking to the blonde, gesturing and pointing over her shoulder where yet another woman – a group of them in fact – were huddle together, heads close together to hear what the others were saying. Killian barely had a chance to get an explanation before the woman smiled up at him, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and a thank you in his ear before she re-joined her friends.

He'd planned to search for her after, to give her time with her friends and then pull her into another dance. But one sweep of the dancefloor told him she was gone. He tried searching the bar, even went so far as to ask the barmaid to check the women's toilets, but to no avail. His mystery woman was gone, and all he could do was sulk about it.

* * *

"I don't even like this band." Emma groaned, lying on Mary-Margret's sofa while the other woman bustled around the kitchen, making each of them what Emma hoped to be a good, strong drink. After the skip she'd just had to take down it was well deserved.

"You don't know this band." Mary-Margret replied, her voice only part mocking. Emma found the tone infuriating, nonetheless, her head pounding when she'd tried to sit up. This skip in particular had put up a decent fight, leaving Emma with a couple of bad cuts she'd managed to clean and put bandaids over, bruises beginning to form and a headache she wasn't going to forget in a hurry. A headache only made worse by her best friend's insistence she join the girls for another girl's night. Emma hadn't had girl's night since Mary-Margret's bachelorette party over three months ago, and even that hadn't truly been much of a girls' night, not for Emma at least.

She'd spent the better part of the night trying to prove to Neal that he had no effect on her anymore by dancing with a ridiculously handsome stranger, before ditching said stranger in the middle of the club with no name from either parties to then have to deal with a vomiting Ashely, a _very_ disgruntled Merida shouting an impressive array of profanities hidden behind her thick Scottish accent, and a very weepy Aurora who wished she'd stayed home with her husband, Phillip and her son…Phillip.

No, Emma did not want another girl's night.

"Do _you_ know this band?" Emma countered, lifting the icepack from her head for a second, testing the graze at her temple with her fingers. It wasn't coming away bloody anymore, that was a good sign. After having a very insistent David half drag her from her bug that evening, Emma had braced the horrible holds of the hospital and gotten herself checked out. No concussion, and no broken bones, she would be tender for a couple of weeks and should probably take it easy. Emma didn't do 'taking it easy', she also didn't do gigs, but she couldn't think of a good enough excuse to get out of it, and apparently ' _I have a headache'_ wasn't cutting it for Mary-Margret.

"No, but they're a friend of Lacey's, which means they're a friend of Ruby's by default." Mary-Margret said and Emma groaned. What she wouldn't give for just one simple circle of friends, just a couple of adults who could hang out together without a load of people Emma didn't know getting involved.

Mary-Margret had other friends like Ashley and Aurora who created the small towns new mother's guild which had taken to encompassing Granny Lucas. The women all met up once or twice a week at Granny's Diner not far from the loft, drank herbal teas and gushed over babies. Emma was a little past the gushing stage of parenthood, and was more focused on making sure Henry was ready to start school on a few months.

Ruby had her chaotic foursome consisting of her girlfriend, Mulan, barmaid Lacey and raging feminist Scot, Merida (Ruby's words, not hers) and now this apparent band.

David had Graham and Arthur (who came with a wife as well as other friends) and then there was Emma. Emma had her son, and her friends (She could even hold a conversation with most of her friend's friends). She was close to them, and she loved them – she really did – but every one of her friends had someone else. She wasn't anyone's first choice. Unless you counted Henry, who was four, and currently having a whale of a time at Mrs. Lucas' house while Emma went on her 'date'.

"Isn't everyone a friend of Lacey's?" Emma asked, she had met the barmaid and even had a few drinks with her on occasion, but she also knew that half the town did as well. She didn't just work at Gold's, but at The Rabbit Hole, as well. She was very tuned in to the towns gossip, Emma knew, and she wasn't the kind of person you got on the wrong side of without some serious backlash.

"This is different. It's Lacey's new boyfriend's brother's band." Mary-Margret explained, setting the strangely coloured – and still swirling – cocktail in front of Emma, having a glass of orange juice for herself. It had only been a week or so since Mary-Margret had found out that she and David were pregnant, and Emma was glad. If she left Henry alone with the broody woman for too long she was worried she wouldn't get the little boy back.

"I didn't know Lacey even had a boyfriend." Emma said, sitting up to take a generous gulp of her strange, fruity concoction of a drink before lying back down. "What's he like?"

"Tall, handsome, British, _and_ has his own business." Mary-Margret said, her green eyes looking at Emma knowingly. Of course, this guy sounded perfect _and_ he had a bother. Mary-Margret had undoubtedly already started on ' _Operation Cupid'_ as she and her friends had taken to calling it. Find Emma a boyfriend. Emma personally hated the idea, she had her son after all. That wasn't something that single men took tall that lightly, after all, not when she was barely twenty-two.

"So, if it's the boyfriend's brother's gig, why do I have to be there?" Emma asked again, sitting up to take another generous gulp of her drink. It was half gone already. Either Mary-Margret needed bigger glasses or Emma was drinking too much. It was probably the latter. Drinking too much wouldn't be the end of the world, Granny Lucas had Henry until tomorrow afternoon, insisting she take him to the park with the other little boy she was babysitting – the poor woman practically ran a nursery – which meant that Emma didn't need to pick him up until a little later.

Living just down one flight of stairs from David and Mary-Margret's loft had its bonuses too. Not only was she not far from Granny's but she also didn't need to worry about getting home alone. David would surely come and pick up his loving wife, and he'd pick her up to, the couple having adopted her into their tiny family like she was a stray cat. Not that Emma was complaining, it was nice to not spend every major holiday alone since she had no one but Henry, and as much as she loved her son, having the company of other adults and not her four-year-old was refreshing.

"Because, we were asked." Mary-Margret said, slapping Emma's leg lightly. It didn't hurt – Mary-Margret wouldn't even kill a wasp if it stung her – but Emma groaned anyway, more for the dramatics than actual pain. "Now, you need to go and get ready. David will be back in just under an hour and then we're leaving." Emma tried to return the woman's stern gaze, but she lost, as usual. Standing up to Mary-Margret was becoming more and more futile with the more time they spent together. Despite Mary-Margret having a step sister – Regina – Emma couldn't help feeling she was closer to the raven haired woman.

"Fine. I'll go." Emma said, downing the rest of her drink in one, sickly sweet gulp before dropping the glass back onto the table. "But I'm going to complain the entire time." She stood then, grateful she didn't wobble on her feet at all. Perhaps the headache wasn't as bad as Emma was making it out to be, she couldn't feel it much more than a dull throbbing anymore anyway. "And I'm keeping this icepack!" She called back over her shoulder before shutting the door to the loft and making her way frown the steps to her own apartment, the tiny two bedrooms that she and Henry shared. It wasn't much, but it was as close to home as Emma felt.

Emma had barely fixed her face, cleaned up her scrapes and gotten out of her 'date' dress, before she heard the thundering of feet on the wooden steps indicating David's return home. It was an old building, all peeling, duck egg blue painted railings and creaking stairs. As a plus, it meant she knew if Henry had decided to go for a wander during the night or if a burglar had decided to break in. The down side? She heard pretty much everything both outside her door and above her ceiling.

"You ready, Emma?" David's voice called through the apartment, no doubt from him walking through her unlocked door. Giving herself one quick once over and judging she didn't look like she'd been chasing bail skippers through the streets of Boston, she grabbed her red leather jacket and followed David's voice out onto the landing.

Best get this over with.

* * *

Killian had thought he'd be used to the pre-performance nerves by now. He and his band had been performing since they had started college years ago, and they had done plenty of shows both in and out of Boston, and yet the excitement didn't waver.

The venue wasn't big, but it was in a downtown warehouse – turned nightclub that Killian had never even set foot in before. It didn't seem too bad, with its neck craning high ceilings and giant, dusted over windows. The urban feel was welcoming, reminding him of the times he'd played gigs in London as a younger lad. The nerves had been just as bad then, of course, but Killian had been nothing more than a cover artist singing where he could. Now he had a band, and a manager, and the chance to actually make it big. That meant no covers – or at least not many. Instead, they were writing their own music, and Killian was grateful. Song writing had been his passion before he could even play and instrument, always having a notebook nearby to jot down inspiration or the odd lyric as it came into his mind. It was only after Liam had brought him his first guitar – one that he still owned – that Killian had decided he ought to play.

Now look at him.

"Ready, mate?" Robin asked, offering Killian his hand to pull him up from where he sat atop an unused speaker, notebook in hand, guitar case just to his left. "The support's have almost finished their set. Time for the big one." He said, clapping Killian on the shoulder once he was standing. Killian smiled back, ready for this performance. Their set list wasn't long, two original songs, then an interesting cover, then a few more originals before finishing off with their newest song, one Killian had barely even finished in time for the gig.

He'd started writing it three months ago, the morning after the night of Gold's club. The morning after the mysterious blonde had dragged him onto the dance floor before disappearing into the night, no name, no nothing. He's done his best to find her, asking everyone he could. The dark haired, pixie cut friend had disappeared along with her, as had the rest of her group. Lacey, the barmaid, hadn't even seen what woman he'd been dancing with and Liam, Liam hadn't even noticed Killian was gone, far too caught up with Lacey to pay attention to anyone else.

His friends had lapped it up, he'd known they would, anything upbeat and fanciful had them falling over themselves. It was usually because Will was already drunk and Jefferson was tripping him, but still, Killian counted it as a win.

"Right then, the Snow Queens are finishing up now." Regina said, somehow managing to gravitate the entire band around her, Robin by her side as he usually was. The Snow Queens were a good support group, consisting of three girls and one guitar. Elsa, a platinum blonde woman with very pale skin was their leading vocalist, then came her sister, Anna, the red head with the strange white streak in her hair and finally their guitarist and occasional backing singer, Belle. Killian had heard Belle's rendition of 'Beauty and the Beast' and personally thought she was good enough to sing a more up front part. She, however, didn't like so much of the attention, leaving it to Elsa and her bubbly sister.

"You boys had better get into position. Scarlet, don't hurt yourself, Hatter don't break any more drum sticks. Robin, you'll do great. And Guyliner," she said, this time looking at Killian, her purple painted lips pursed slightly as she eyed him. Killian didn't exactly _dislike_ his manager, he simply thought they didn't need her. It was the same as how she didn't _dislike_ him, she just never called him by name and tended to nit-pick everything he did. It was a comfortable arrangement; one Killian had grown very accustomed to. She'd even calmed down slightly after dating Robin, The Evil Queen, as they had taken to calling her fading away with just a little love from Robin and his son, Roland. "Don't mess up." And with a quick kiss to Robin's cheek and a swish of dark hair, she was gone leaving them standing in the wings of the stage, waiting for the Snow Queens to finish their original song 'Let it Go'.

Before Killian could let the nerves leave his system Elsa was passing him, her face broken into a wide smile as she head the crowd applauding behind her.

"Thank you for this!" She exclaimed as she reached Killian, grasping his free hand that wasn't holding a guitar in her own. Her hands were freakishly cold, but Killian did his best not to react. She'd probably find it rude. "We're still finding our feet here."

"No problem, Lass. You were astounding." He said with a smile, one she eagerly returned. Killian could already hear Anna bouncing around behind him, no doubt jumping into her fiancé's arms like she did after every gig and shouting into the poor man's ear.

"Well, good luck with your set. I know you'll do great." And then she was gone, off to jump and squeal alongside her sister and Belle, no doubt.

"Let's do this, then." Killian said, nodding once to his fellow band members before staring out onto the still brightly lit stage, straight into the sights of the awaiting crowd.

* * *

"I didn't know Elsa was in a band." Emma said as she stood beside Mary-Margret near the front railing, about as close to the stage as she could manage. That had been Ruby's doing, the red streaked brunette pushing through the crowd like a battering ram, Mulan's hand in hers as she careered her way up to the front before gesturing to the others.

As it happened, the turn out hadn't been all that great from their friends, beside Mary-Margret, Ruby and Mulan, the only other people to have joined them was Lacey who was waiting to meet her new boyfriend, and Merida whose hair was thankfully pulled into one very long, vey frizzy looking braid over her shoulder.

"I didn't know Belle was in one." Mary-Margret said. She shot Lacey a look then, but the glittery eyed brunette ignored her, choosing to scan the crowd for her apparently tall and handsome British man. Emma had to laugh, she might not have had siblings of her own, but she'd always assumed that they would be somewhat similar, _especially_ if those siblings were twins. As it happened, Lacey and Belle French were as different as chalk and cheese. Where Lacey was a wild card, dressing in blue sequined, laced backed dresses with her brown hair nothing more than a tumble of curls and sparkling pins over her shoulder, Belle was a little more refined.

She owned a bookshop, Emma knew, having gone in there a few times with Henry over the years, and despite their identical features of light eyes and dark brown hair, Emma could never mistake one twin for the other. Belle was more of a top button girl with cute little heels and skater skirts, Lacey was more about hustling pool and doing body shots. The strangest part, the two sisters _adored_ each other. It was a bizarre sight, especially as Belle made her way out from behind the stage, weaving her way through the crowd and towards her sister, the pair of them hugging quickly before returning their attention back to the stage.

The main band was already setting up, and as the lead singer, a man with beautifully dishevelled black hair and light dusting of stubble, began to adjust his microphone, his guitar strap across his chest against the sinfully low buttoned shirt, Emma couldn't help the tiny gasp she let out.

* * *

Setting up had taken them no time at all. Jefferson's drums had sat on stage during the last set of the Snow Queens, just hidden in the darkness where the spotlights didn't reach and all their amps were sat waiting, plugged in and sound tested. All it really took to set up was plugging in their instruments, giving them a quick test drive to check nothing had broken from the last time they checked and for Killian to adjust his microphone.

Then the lights were bright and coloured upon them and the crowd was cheering like they all been told they had won the lottery. Killian had to smile. It was quite a large turnout, groups of girls half leaning over the metal railings at the front of the stage, eager to get as close to musician's as possible.

They started not long after that with one of Killian's personal favourite songs ' _Perfect Stranger'_ , singing with Robin and Will in the background. He could drift away like this, close of all his senses and just focus, let the music dance over his skin and the lyrics roll off of his tongue like it was second nature. It was what he loved most about his passion, of the art of music, how he could lose himself to it. Something he'd needed greatly after the Milah fiasco.

All of that fell apart however just before they started their third song, and Killian turned to look up into the crowd with a bright smile, ready to introduce the song. His words had died instantly on his tongue when he'd seen her looking up at him. Everything froze, his vision narrowed and he'd blamed the fog machine for the light feeling in his head and the nerves for the dropping of his stomach.

"Ladies and Gentleman, this our next song, 'You Found You'," Killian heard Robin say behind him, but he didn't have the heart to even feel ashamed at missing his own cue. His friends could be as pissed at him as they wanted, Killian had found her after one night of searching and months of remembering, she was here. The mystery woman from Gold's club was standing in the crowd, looking up at him and it felt like everything was falling strangely into place. He continued to sing, but he daren't look away from her from fear she'd disappear into the crowd and be lost once more. All he could think was what it would be like to meet her, truly meet her, to know her name at the very east.

" _Lost and insecure, You found me, you found me. Lyin' on the floor, Surround me, surround me._ " Killian sang, and for the first time since the song had been written, the pain behind his lyrics was replaced with a welcomed numbness. He still saw Milah in the hotel room, her back propped up against the bath tub with her head lolling on her shoulders, the tap in the sink running over and the empty bottle of pills sat beside her bottle of rum. " _Why'd you have to wait? Where were you, where were you. Just a little late, You found me, you found me,"_ Losing her had taken its toll on Killian, and his friends knew it, but they never abandoned him. Not even when he took to drinking alone in his hotel room or going to clubs and finding the first girl he could to take home with him. That was all a memory now, a lesson that Killian had learnt the very hard way. Perhaps that was the reason Regina had disliked Killian so much when they'd met, seeing nothing more than an alcoholic rock star wannabee with a dead, drug addict girlfriend and a few good songs to his name. He'd grown a lot in the past few years though, and for the first time in his short career, he found himself desperate to finish their set and leave the stage, heading towards the beautiful blonde in the red leather jacket.

All he wanted was a name.

* * *

"Emma," Mary-Margret said as the band, finished off their second to last song, the warehouse falling into the closest thing to silence possible, the excited squeals still very visible. "I don't know if you've noticed, but the singer has been staring at you for half of the show,"

"I might have met him before," Emma said as casually as she could muster, something that was always a challenge when Ruby was within earshot and had a few to many vodka tonics in her system.

"You met the singer?" She half-shouted, leaning so far over where Mary-Margret leant on the metal railing, that Emma was surprised she didn't fall over, especially in the heels she was wearing.

"I danced with him a bit at Mary-Margret's bachelorette party," She tried to mumble, but her friends seemed to have tuned their hearing into any frequency that came out of Emma's mouth. It was enough to get Merida to speak up.

"I knew I saw ye with some lad, I just didn't think nowt of it." She shrugged, returning to her beet bottle like nothing had happened. Emma was ready to let the subject drop, but someone was tapping on her shoulder and she was about ready to punch whoever it was. Drunken men had been 'falling' into her most of the night, and she was getting rather irritable about it.

"I couldn't help over hearing," The man said, his British accent very noticeable, even in the loud room and judging by the familiar brunette hanging off of his arm, this was Lacey's new boyfriend. "I'm Liam, brother of the lead singer," He said, even extending a hand towards her. Emma was wary, more on instinct than any real logic, and accepted.

"Hi, I'm –" She began, but was quickly cut off but Liam, the brother of the lead singer, before she could finish.

"Not to be rude, Lass, but if I learn your name before my doting brother, I fear I won't hear the end of it." He chuckled as Lacey giggled slightly on the end of his arm. It was a strange mix, Lacey being so petite and _sparkly,_ while Liam was broad and wore just a plain pair of dark jeans and a dark blue shirt. That being said, Emma had seen stranger.

"Doting?" Emma coughed out instead, not thinking of the ruggedly handsome lead singer to ever be the type for doting. Quick sex on a drunken night and then gone in the morning, maybe. But doting? Emma had her doubts.

"You are the lass who dragged him onto the dancefloor a few months back?" Liam asked and Emma knew then she'd started something she didn't know needed finishing. Liam took her silence as agreement and continued. "He'd been on about it since, trying to figure out who you are. He even sent Lacey into the lady's toilets looking for you."

"I wouldn't have told him even if I'd known," Lacey said, and Emma appreciated that. If anyone knew how much Emma hated being set up with people, it was Lacey. She'd had years of Belle trying to set her up with people after she'd met Gaston, Belle's 'T _rue Love'._ Once that relationship went to shit, Belle had given up. Still, it was nice to know that someone had her back, even if she barely spoke to her.

Emma opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the cheers of excited girls behind her as the band got themselves back into position, having readjusted their instruments and had a drink of water each. Now, they were ready to play once more.

They started playing a very upbeat, and very electro sounding song and Emma couldn't help but wonder if she'd gone to a different gig without noticing, but then the lead singer, whose name she still didn't know either, began to sing, and without an conscious thought, she felt her face flushing.

" _Don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me. I said 'you're holding back', She said 'shut up and dance with me!'"_ He was looking at her now, Mr. Handsome singer, his face bright as he looked at her with the most self-satisfied, shit-eating-grin that Emma had ever seen, and she'd seen a lot. Emma didn't know whether to laugh or cry, deciding that standing still with her eyes wide and mouth heading towards the floor was getting to be a little ridiculous.

The more he sang, the more Emma felt her face flushing, but she was smiling now out of the ridiculousness of the situation, something that didn't go unnoticed by Mr. Lead Singer, who just beamed even brighter. He'd obviously come to impress and had ended up getting more than her bargained for. And he was loving it.

" _A backless dress and some beat up sneaks, My discotheque, Juliet, teenage dream,_ " Because why wouldn't Emma's sorry excuse of a party outfit have gone unnoticed. Perhaps because it was what normal people would overlook? And this singer was clearly far from normal, with his cocky smile and wide, over the moon eyes. God, she didn't know whether to slap him or hug him. " _I felt it in my chest as she looked at me, We were bound to be together, bound to be together!"_

Her friends had caught on, of course, and were so busy mocking her, they barely saw the gig after that. They seemed to be having way more fun dancing around like idiots anyway, spilling their drinks in their haste to make Emma as embarrassed as possible. They were doing well, despite Emma having hit rock bottom with embarrassment the moment he'd looked at her. Had he looked away like a normal person, she could have slipped out, claimed her still thumping headache was too bad to bear and head home. But she'd had a - or five - which would mean either splashing out for a cab or wasting time until David showed, which could have been hours. As it happened, she'd stayed and if she didn't know better, Emma would say that she was glad she had.

" _Deep in her eyes, I think I see a future. I realise, this is my last chance!"_ He was looking straight at her, barely paying any mind to the chords he was playing on his guitar as she gouged her face for a reaction. Had she not been looking right back, she wouldn't have seen the joy on his face when she smiled up at him so wide her cheeks hurt. This was ridiculous, she didn't even know this guy, and yet her eyes had not faltered in their staring since the song had begun apart from a quick eye roll at her friends. _"_ _She took my arm; I don't know how it happened. We took the floor and she said,"_

The crowd had clearly caught on by now and were shouting the lyrics right back at the lead singer while his band mates put on quite the show of being involved with them. Even the slightly unhinged looking guy on the drums who Emma was sure she recognised (minus the top hat) was smiling and encouraging them.

The song was nearing an end, Emma knew that, and she hated how gutted she felt at not hearing his voice any more. She didn't have too much time to mope though, as she once more felt the tap of fingertips against her shoulder.

Turning for the first time in a while, Emma saw the singers brother, Liam, with a similar shit-eating-grin on his face, and she couldn't help thinking if it ran in the family. He gestured once for her to follow and without thinking, she did. Along with all of her friends of course, who were too drunk and too nosy not to see what was going on.

* * *

Once the song ended Killian basked in the applause for a moment before scanning the crowd once more for the blonde mystery woman he's been gazing at, only to find the spot she and her friends had been occupying was taken by more squealing girls.

Feeling more deflated than he thought he would, Killian waved a little to the crowd and even ducked into a little bow before heading off, guitar on his shoulder to meet his undoubtedly awaiting brother back stage.

He spotted him immediately, the tall stocky build of his brother unmistakable along with his curling hair only a few shades lights then Killian's own. What he didn't expect, however, was for Liam to be surrounded by what seemed like a small army of women, all chatting amongst each other while they sipped their drinks and laughed along with each other.

"Liam?" Killian called, catching his brothers attention. Killian didn't much like the mischievous glint in her brothers eye as he turned away from talking to his girlfriend to look at his younger brother and smile. "What's the meaning of this?" He gestured to the half a dozen women stood around in a huddle, each of them looking at Killian with barely concealed glee. He wasn't interested, of course. He was too busy wondering if he snuck out into the warehouse now, if he'd catch the mysterious blonde before she hailed a cab or began walking home. It would be a long shot, of course, but he couldn't help but want to try.

"Ah! Little brother," Liam exclaimed, and Killian bit back the urge to correct him that Killian was his _younger_ brother, not little. They were nearly the same height after all, even if Liam was far broader in the shoulders. "I've got a surprise for you. Behold," He said before reaching to the woman stood t the back of the group, the one Killian couldn't see anything of apart from a few blonde wisps of hair. "Your mystery dancing girl!"

Killian froze as the woman stumbled slightly in front of him from the force of Liam's push. She shot him a glare over his shoulder that Liam apologised for, clearly too excited in the moment to hold back. But Killian didn't care about that. All he cared about was that standing before him was indeed the mystery dancing girl, her blonde hair falling over the shoulders of her red leather jacket in thick curls beneath which she wore a sheer green top and a pair of dark jeans tucked into her calf-high brown boots.

"Mystery dancing girl?" She said over her shoulder to Liam, somehow managing to ignore the giggles of her slightly tipsy friends, only one of which – the pixie cut woman – Killian even recognised. "Really?" Her voice sounded just as wonderful when she wasn't fighting to be heard over the harsh pounding of the dubstep music in Gold's club, Killian had to admit

"That's all we've ever heard," Liam said with a smile, looking at Killian as he wrapped his arm more comfortably around Lacey's shoulders. The rest of the band had made their way off stage now and had joined the slight crowd gathering around Killian and the mystery woman, clearly as intrigued by it all as the woman's friends were.

"Yes, well," Killian began, finally finding his voice after the initial shock of this meeting had worn off. Obviously, he'd wanted to meet her, but not quite under these circumstances and certainly not with a jeering audience. Then again, beggars can't be choosers. "I'd call you by name, Love, but I'm afraid I've not had the pleasure." That made her smile as she looked at him, really looked this time, and Killian felt himself wanting to squirm a little under her gaze. He didn't, which was a good thing, as she extended her hand towards him.

"Emma," She said, "Emma Swan." Instead of taking her hand and shaking, as she no doubt expected, Killian held her hand gently before rising it up towards his face, bending over ever so slightly so that his lips brushed against her knuckles.

"Pleasure to meet you properly, Swan," Killian said, looking up at her through his lashes in a way he could see made her cheeks redden. Not that he'd hold that against her of course. "Killian Jones," and with that, the mystery was solved and the lost girl was found.

* * *

Everyone had been anticipating the day that Liam and Lacey would break it. Not because their relationship was doomed from the start or anything like that. It was simply because Lacey was not the type of girl who was easily pinned down.

It did, therefore, come as one hell of a surprise when Lacey and Liam announced barely six months later that they were getting married. The shock was short lived of course, and before long everyone was congratulating the happy couple and greatly anticipating the big day instead. Liam had asked Killian to be best man, something that was anything but a surprise, also having the other band members as his fellow groomsmen. Lacey had chosen Belle as her maid of honour, once more to no one's surprise, with Ruby, Elsa and Anna as her other bride's maids.

As a whole, the ceremony had been beautiful and toned down affair, especially for what had been expected of Lacey, and yet everyone had enjoyed it. Clearly the next seven or eight months of an engagement had paid off for the couple as rumours had spread about Lacey wanting to run off to Vegas instead. Luckily, that plan had been squashed and so paved the way for this special day.

Liam had settled for black suits with an exquisite blue tie and waist coat combo that Killian was sure cost more than one of his guitars while Lacey's bride's maids were dressed in a rich, cobalt blue backless ball gowns. The bride herself was exceptionally toned down for the occasion, having left behind her tight, sparkly dresses and black seven inch heels for a far more delicate, though still tight fitting, ivory mermaid dress, her brown curls tamed somewhat and falling over her shoulder in less of a tumble than usual. She looked beautiful, no one would deny that, it was just clear how much of an impact Belle may well have had on hr twins wedding day. Lacey didn't seem to mind, speaking clearly through her vows and kissing Liam only when told to (at least until after the ceremony had finished).

The reception was far less delicate, in Killian's opinion and it was clear where Lacey had the most impact. It was he'd at the Rabbit Hole, which just so happened to be Lacey's main place of work. Despite the overall scepticism of the usually crammed bar, infamous for its drunken patrons and hustling of pool, Killian could easily admit that once all of that was stripped away, the building had a bizarre charm to it.

The lights had been turned up brighter than usual, bathing the room in a soft, reddish glow that seemed to come with all bars wherever they may be. The tables and chairs had all be moved around the room, leaving a great space in the main area for a makeshift dancefloor where Liam and Lacey would have their first dance. The rest of the tables had been covered with a thin white cloth, a small lantern sat as a centrepiece with a single blue candle flickering inside the glass, dark blue glitter and confetti covering the tables surface. It was romantic, that was for sure, simply with an urban and very barfly take on the term.

From where he was sat at the head table, Killian could spot Emma with ease, sitting with already married couple David and Mary-Margret who bounced their infant daughter – Ruth, after Dave's mother – on her knee. Henry, Emma's lad, had already disappeared, no doubt in search of Robin's son Roland, the two of them having hit it off together while Granny had been babysitting the two of them on more than one occasion. It made sense, the boys were the same age and young enough that judgment and harsh words were yet to play a part in the friend making process.

He'd been watching her for the better part of half an hour, knowing full well that she felt out of place at the table with another married couple, no matter how much she loved them, and with her son having run off she was out of people to converse with. Killian would be sat with her, of course, but as the best man he was obliged to stay beside the groom until the speeches and various other wedding traditions were over. Which would be any minute now.

Once the first dance began, Killian was able to slip down from the table and heading over to where Emma sat twirling her champagne flute in her hands. She looked astounding, Killian couldn't help but admit, with her modest red dress and not too high black heels it was a wonder that she didn't outshine even the bride. But perhaps he was being biased, after all, why wouldn't he think his girlfriend was the most beautiful girl in the room.

Their relationship hadn't gone quite as smoothly as their first official meeting had, and Killian wasn't exactly surprised by that either. She had her fears and she had her walls and most importantly, she had her son. Henry would always be number one in Emma's life and Killian had expected nothing less. And so he'd done his best, he'd been patient with her, and if she told him they were going too fast, he'd slow right down and let her take the lead. It wasn't all one sided, of course, though the pain of Milah's loss was less when he was with Emma, it didn't go away, and there were times Emma would ask one innocent question, or point out one tiny fault and Killian would lose his handle and drop once more. That was past now, and Killian could almost say that he and Emma were happy together.

There were times when he'd reach for her hand and she'd pull it away and there were times when she'd offer him and drink and his body would tense, but they made their way through it together. There was even talk of moving in together when Killian is free from the work with the band and his overbearing manager – who just so happens to be Mary-Margret's step sister. Small world.

When he reached where Emma was sat, arms crossed over her stomach, he couldn't help the excitement in his veins, even now. And when he grabbed her arm, pulling her up with him despite her objections and led her to the dance floor, his arms snaking around her waist as his free hand caught hers, there was only one thing to say. She was still grumbling, but when he spoke she fell silent, his lips just scraping against her ear lobes as he said the few tiny words that killed any and all arguments she had against this moment.

"Swan, shut up and dance with me."

* * *

 **As usual with my stories, the proof reading I probably shit and mistakes are likely still milling about. Sorry about that.**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think and the songs used are as follows.**

 ** _Perfect Stranger_ \- The Enemies (Colin's Band)**

 ** _You Found Me_ \- The Fray (Such a good song!)**

 ** _Shut Up And Dance_ \- Walk The Moon**


End file.
